Queen for a Day
Today was the 20th annual Miss Grandmother pageant where each neighborhood picks a senior to represent them with a sash and crown. Normally it is held at the senior center I volunteer teach dance at featuring presentations from the classes in everything from dance to crafts to chair yoga.
Since we’ve a new mayor we’ve a new mayor’s wife and she’s always in charge of this event, things were different. The current first lady changed venue and it was a great idea!
This year the pageant was at the lovely, new conference hotel by the cemetery. We entered having the First Lady and staff hand out mugs with the government’s clever and colorful logo. I got mine from Madame herself because Mexican politicians are fascinated with me.
As a general rule of thumb I avoid any and all political gatherings. It is simply good manners to never discuss politics with your host (country). However, I frequent find myself dancing on stage at events politicians, or those running for office, attend. They zero in on me like a heat seeking missile normally being the only obvious foreigner at the event.
I’d say it was flattering but with pre-show jitters the last thing I want is to force myself to be is witty and charming to someone, whom with a flick of their wrist, can get me booted out the country. Plus I’m baffled that in a concert hall, theater, or town square, they provide undivided attention to the one person they can be certain won’t vote for them. Namely, because I can’t vote.
Once beyond the political obligations I passed the Beauty Salon where the ladies could get their hair and makeup done for free. I thought “This. This right here is why I adore this event!”
Everyone should have days in their lives when they are special just because they are. Sure, turning three is grand as your parents turn your life over to God and a grand fiesta, but how many of us remember that? Turning 15 rocks as once again a woman can dress like a princess, dance and be the focus of attention. Imagine how nice it is to have that feeling again in your senior years!
Passing the dessert tables I drooled. Here every local bakery of merit donated something to the smorgasbord!
I’ve been to enough pageants to know the mayor’s wife’s opening speech will be good but this gal was particularly good and truly got the party started. I admire when anyone has charisma that simply pours through their pores. Mine mostly leaks out.
Luckily we dancers were the first on the bill which I appreciate. I like getting my moment on stage over with so I can enjoy the rest of the event with no performance anxiety. If you don’t have some butterflies in your tummy before performing in public you don’t have a pulse. The key is getting the butterflies to flap in the same direction.
The woman in blue is Belgian that when I was in high school she lived a few blocks from my parents! Still haven’t convinced her Hershey chocolate is so much better than Belgian chocolates.
During the crowning ceremony a few lads become king for the day. They are good sports about sitting on a throne with their tiaras and sashes secure in the knowledge they’ve already won as most men don’t live that long.
Then, a first, a band got the music started. My well-dresses alumni flocked to the dance floor and we had a blast. At one point, I’d been dancing up a storm with my students and took a break to walk through the hotel’s packed dining hall and lean against the rear wall for a moment. I was looking down lost in some stupid thought when a waitress came by, put both her hands on my cheeks and lifted my head to look at the band. Here the singer was calling me back up to dance with all the gals waiting for me as were all 300 or so seated heads looked at me mumble “Wha…..sh*t” with utter clarity.